


but boy, you're only a child

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Derek is a waiter?, Humor, M/M, Out of Character, Ridiculous, Scott is not a werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10062155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: when you orphan a fic right away because you don't want it associated with your account in any way. this is my anonymous trash i send out into the world. if it's any excuse, i wrote it when i was 14.





	

“What?” Stiles screeched, his voice reaching glass shattering altitudes. “What the actual fucking fuck?!” 

“Dude,” Scott said plaintively. “You promised you’d be cool if I told you.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d tell me you want to bang my father!” Scott flushed bright as a tomato at that. 

“Could you please keep your voice down?” he hissed. The Sheriff was downstairs reading the paper, and this was something Scott most definitely did  _ not  _ want him to overhear. 

“Keep my voice down? You want me to keep my voice down?!” Stiles whisper-shrieked. “My dad is triple your age.” 

“I… I like older men. They’re more mature.” Stiles stammered. 

“Why can’t you just screw Danny?” 

“Despite you and Coach’s conviction that every gay guy in Beacon Hills wants to screw Danny Mahealani, I, for one, do not.” 

“But my dad? _ Really _ ?” 

“He’s ruggedly handsome, okay?” Scott said defensively. “He has nice blue eyes and such big, strong arms…” his voice trailed off. 

“Okay, I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking about.” Scott grinned sheepishly, caught in the act. For weeks now he’d been having fantasies about his best friend’s father. Just the thought of the Sheriff on top of him made him hard in all the right places. 

“Stiles,” Scott said, using his best kicked puppy expression.”Are we still friends?”

“Scott, I couldn’t unfriend you if I tried. It’s like we’re tied together with this unbreakable string, and if I tried to walk away, it would tighten around my neck and suffocate me until I was a lifeless corpse on the ground.” 

“Wow… you make our friendship sound so pleasant.”

“Just being honest, man.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re okay.”

“Yeah, but if you even try to act on your untoward intentions towards my father, I will kill you, so help me God.”  You better buy some black clothes then, Scott thought, ‘cause you’re gonna be going to a funeral real soon. 

 

 

“Allison!” Scott enthused, sliding into the chair next to her. “It’s been ages.”

“It’s only been the weekend,” she teased, but she was grinning, her dimples framing your face. “That’s all you’re eating?” she added, puzzled, staring down at Scott’s tray, which was meagrely supplied compared to its usual contents. 

“Yeah,” Scott said. “So what? I’m not hungry.” He had to be at his most svelte if he had any hope of seducing the Sheriff. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your crush on Sheriff Stilinski?” Seriously, the girl was a mind reader. 

“About that…” 

“Tell me!” she insisted. 

“I told Stiles!” 

“Get out!” she shrieked. “Is he okay with it?”

“Not exactly, but we’re still friends.” 

“So,” she said, munching on a granola bar. “What happens next?” 

“Now I can devote my full attention to seducing the Sheriff.” 

“Scott,” Allison laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you have serious daddy issues?” 

“Shut up! Allison, please. I need your help. How can I get the Sheriff to sleep with me? Am I not attractive enough?” His eyes were wide with panic.

“How many guys have you been with?” she asked. 

“One,” Scott admitted, grimacing at the thought of that disaster. 

“The Sheriff will want someone confident and experienced. Not some nervous, virginal, blushing sixteen-year old.” 

“Well, I’m not technically a virgin…” Scott protested. 

“As good as.” The girl was right. 

“So what do I do?” 

“Learn the tricks of the trade,” she said, leaning close, whispering so low only Scott could hear. “Learn how to give some fucking amazing head.” Suddenly Stiles’ idea about Danny didn’t seem like such a bad one. 

 

 

Scott watched Danny from across the change room. He had a nice, toned body and a pretty face. But more importantly, he had fucked almost every gay guy within the city limits. He had had tons of college-aged boyfriends, and was definitely what one would call “confident and experienced.” He didn’t get Scott hot like the Sheriff did, but he’d make a good enough teacher. Scott summoned his courage and marched towards him.

“Danny?” he asked sweetly, angling his body towards him. Danny glanced up from the lacrosse net he was mending, vaguely confused. 

“Yeah, what?” 

“I...I...um…” 

“Uh-huh?” 

“I need you to teach me about blowjobs,” Scott said all in a rush. Danny looked deeply disturbed and started glancing behind Scott. 

“Jacks-” he started to say, raising his voice. Scott shushed him desperately. Jackson Whittemore was more than happy to beat up any pervs creeping on his gay best friend, and the last thing Scott needed was to wake up in the hospital with two black eyes and several broken limbs. 

“No, Danny, it’s not like that, I’m not trying to be creepy.” 

“Well, you’re doing a pretty good job of it.” 

“I don’t even think of you that way! I don’t even think you’re that attractive.” 

“If you’re trying to get me to give you a blowjob, Scott McCall, that was a very bad way to start.” 

“But that’s just it! I don’t want you to give  _ me  _ a blowjob. I want to give  _ you _ a blowjob, and then I want you to tell me whether it’s good or not.” 

“Okay, I am so confused here.” Scott took a deep breath, deciding to go for broke. 

“I’m in love with this older guy, okay? I really, really want his attention, but- God, this is embarrassing- I’m bad at sex. I thought, maybe, you could teach me?”

“Scott,” Danny said, after a very long pause. He shook his head in exasperation but his brown eyes had softened. “When a guy falls for you, he’s not going to care whether you’re the absolute best at blowjobs, okay?” 

“But how do I even get him to fall for me in the first place?” 

“Just be yourself. You’re a nice guy Scott, sweet and loyal, I’m sure it won’t be that difficult.” 

“Really? I don’t have to learn the tricks of the trade first?” Danny muttered what sounded like  _ what the fuck  _ to himself before continuing. 

“If he really cares about you, it won’t matter how inexperienced you are, because he’ll see

you as a person, not a sex object.” 

“You sure know a lot!” 

“Oh,” Danny added , “And don’t go offering blowjobs to every guy on the street. Some of them won’t have the good sense to turn you down, and then you’ll have wasted something special on someone you don’t even like.” 

“Any other advice?” Scott asked. He should’ve taken a notebook. 

“Keep  _ that _ ,” Danny said pointedly, glancing down at Scott’s ass, “locked up like a national treasure. That’s the only way not to get hurt.” 

“You don’t keep yours locked up like a national treasure,” Scott said seriously. 

“Okay, firstly, that was rude, and secondly, just because I give good advice doesn’t mean I necessarily follow it.” 

“Thank you so much for the wise words, Danny. You’re like, my Yoda!” 

“I think it’s time for you to leave now.” Scott practically skipped away, filled with a renewed sense of purpose. He would make the Sheriff fall in love with his sweet and loyal self or die trying. 

  
  


“Wow… this dinner is just so fabulous, Sheriff,” Scott said, batting his eyelashes across the table. “It feels so good in my mouth.” 

“Um, thank you, I guess. It’s just microwaved macaroni.” 

“Well, no one microwaves like you microwave, that’s for sure!” Stiles rolled his eyes over his glass of iced tea, and Scott shot him a murderous glance. He would not have him sabotaging this. 

“Sheriff,” Scott tried again. “I heard all about that vandalism case you just wrapped up.”

“Oh, yeah. Those Argent punks. I understand you know one of them?”

“Allison is nothing like her family!” 

“Well, that family of hers will be facing a court date. You can’t go smashing windows, randomly shooting guns and vandalizing cars without some consequences.”

“Oh, Sheriff, I feel so safe lying in bed knowing that you’re out there protecting me!” The Sheriff just nodded, looking vaguely confused, while Stiles was silently trying to stab himself in the face with a fork. 

“Well, kids, I got to go wash the dishes now.”

“Let me help!” Scott exclaimed, leaping out of his chair.

“Thanks, Scott, that’s very considerate of you. Stiles, you could learn a few things from him.” Following the Sheriff into the kitchen, Scott’s heart pounded like a rabbit’s. He was put in charge of drying, and every time the Sheriff passed him a dish, he made sure to touch his hand for as long as possible. They were washing dishes together! It was so adorably domestic, they were practically already married. Scott was sighing happily and grinning like an idiot. The Sheriff kept giving him concerned looks. 

“So Scott,” he said finally. “I saw you at the game on Saturday, you played very well.” 

“You did?” Scott enthused. “That’s so awesome!”

“Yup. Stiles had assured me he’d actually be playing in that game so I came out to watch. Of course, he didn’t.” 

“If I’d known you were there, I’d have gone over and talked to you! That might have been sort of difficult though… I was all hot and sweaty and out of breath. I had to take a cool down shower in the change room...naked.”

“Um, well, that is how most people shower.” Scott was getting very frustrated. He’d have to take a more direct approach. Yanking open the fridge, he grabbed a carton of milk, and sloppily guzzled some down. Licking the remnants from his lips, he stared the Sheriff in the eye, and winked salaciously. 

“Do you have something in your eye, Scott? I can grab you a tissue. Oh, and please don’t drink straight from the carton. They invented glasses for a reason.” Later, as Scott was grabbing his coat, he reflected sadly that Sheriff Stilinski was one of the most unseduceable men on earth. 

“Thanks Scott, for making that one of the most awkward, embarrassing, and painfully uncomfortable evenings of my entire life.” Scott shrugged apologetically, then trundled off into the night. He didn’t have time to deal with Stiles’ theatrics. Once the door was closed, the Sheriff walked out of the living room, shaking his head. 

“Is something wrong with Scott? He was acting extremely bizarre tonight.” 

“Believe me, dad, you do  _ not  _ want to know.” 

  
  


Scott’s strawberry milkshake was slammed down on the table with so much force that the thick pink liquid sloshed over the edges. 

“There you go,” was spat in a surly and accusatory manner. You know how waiters are supposed to be sweet, perky, and cheerful? Well, go to the opposite end of the scale and you got Derek Hale. He was a barista of a rage, a cashier of angst. His thick eyebrows were always furrowed in a perfect expression of tragedy, and his face permanently looked like he was a little kid who’d had his teddy bear taken away. Scott didn’t know why he was turning to him for help, except that he had no one left to turn to.

“Um, Derek?” he said weakly. “I need your help.” 

“What the hell, McCall, do you think I have time to deal with your problems? I have to earn a living, okay?”

“Why? You live in a burned out shell. What do you need money for? Doilies for the coffee table?”

“No. Polish and oil for my Camaro. I need all the money I can get.” His eyes darkened. “Especially now that Chris Argent smashed my baby’s windows. Scott wondered fleetingly if Derek was one of those people who had unhealthy relationships with their cars, then realized he was getting distracted. 

“Look, I’ll let you go in a second, okay? Just tell me… tell me… I need to know how you tell someone you love them.” Derek blinked blankly for a moment. No doubt love was a foreign topic for him.

“That’s easy,” he said at last. 

“Oh yeah? Then enlighten me.” 

“Well, first you just randomly appear in their personal space and scare the living daylights out of them.”

“Is it really necessary to make them feel unsafe?” 

“It’s  _ always  _ necessary.” Scott would have to take his word for it.

“Okay, continue.” 

“Then you slam them against a wall and say…”

“And say…?” 

“I love you and I want to be with you.” 

“Wow, it’s really that simple, is it? Thanks, Derek!” Then he got up and dashed out the door. Derek thought of how his only relationship had led to the death of his entire family, and worked the rest of his shift in a fog of loneliness. Then he went to the restroom to cry before heading home to his burned out mansion. 

  
  


Sheriff Stilinski walked out of his office, locking it behind him and humming slightly off-key. Turning into the main hallway, he bumped straight into Scott McCall. 

“Whoa there, Scott. Didn’t see you there.”

“Sorry.” He looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot. 

“What are you doing here?” the Sheriff asked, concerned. “Do you have a crime you need to report?”

“Only if you think my feelings are one.”

“What on earth do you mean?” 

“If I tell you, you better not laugh.” 

“I promise I won’t laugh.” Scott paused for a long moment. 

“I love you.” 

“Um, well, I love you too, Scott. You’re like a son to me.” 

“No, no! You don’t understand! I’m physically attracted to you!”

“Um…” 

“I want to be with you!”

“Um…” 

“Let’s do it; right here, right now!” Stiles made a move for the Sheriff and the Sheriff held up his hands. 

“Scott, Scott. Let’s slow down here. Crushes like this are normal for your age, but this is not happening.”

“Why not?

“You’re sixteen, and I’m your best friend’s father.”

“So? What does that matter? I’m in love with you, and love conquers all!” 

“Look, can’t you just like a boy your own age? That nice goalie on your team is gay, right? That would be more appropriate.” Scott rolled his eyes. Why did every conversation about homosexuality in Beacon Hills have to relate back to Danny? 

“I don’t want appropriate. I want you.”

“Well, the answer is no.” 

“A kiss!” Scott said desperately. “A kiss is all I ask! If you don’t kiss me, I’ll go home and slit my wrists! I will, you know!” 

“Okay, calm down. There’s no need for such an overreaction.” 

“Then kiss me,” Scott breathed. After a pause, the Sheriff leaned in and pecked him chastely. Before he could pull back, Scott flung his arms around his neck and deepened the kiss hungrily. To his surprise, the Sheriff responded, however tentatively, and rested his hands on Scott’s waist. Scott grabbed his hands and moved them to a more preferable location. The Sheriff grunted in surprise at finding his hands on Scott’s ass, but he didn’t move them away. Instead he gave a gentle squeeze and Scott practically came right then and there. The Sheriff broke away for air, gasping. Scott immediately dropped to his knees and fumbled with the Sheriff’s belt. The Sheriff pushed him away forcefully, and did up his pants. 

“No, Scott. I promised you a kiss, and I gave it to you, okay? This is not going any further. I’ve already acted irresponsibly.”

“Don’t you want me?” Scott asked tearfully from his position on the floor. The Sheriff looked at him almost tenderly. 

“You can’t always get what you want. That’s a lesson in life you need to learn.” He shook his head and then walked away without a backwards glance.  _ Oh well, _ thought Scott.  _ There’s always Deaton.  _


End file.
